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POSTED ON Jun 18, 2020 15:29:43 GMT

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]kanto is a place for mourning.
[break][break]despite the efforts to rebuild, there's little familiarity in these streets. it would never be the same place as when marcel first flew over, grief-heavy heart dragging behind. no amount of construction would hide this unease, this safety they had ruined.
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kanto had died, and left an underworld in its wake.
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marcel smooths out his shirt, slightly rumpled from the flight. he'd caught up on some sleep, at least. "admiring your work?" he asks, contemptuously.
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[attr="class","notes"]notes: mission

[attr="class","tag"]dominic sinclair

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sinclair

he / him

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POSTED ON Jun 21, 2020 20:56:31 GMT

his face is awash in colour - red neon lights and dark shadows.

"our work," dominic corrects, slowly turning to marcel. there’s something in the air, something about how he moulds to the streets and alleys, something about remaking kanto per their blueprint. it emboldens him; it’s clear in the flicker of mania in his eyes.

dominic steps closer to marcel, effortlessly threatening in his approach. "this is our legacy, and now it’s your kingdom. act like it," he snarls.

marcel can’t run forever - he’s shown he’s unwilling to do it.

marcel maeda

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kosuke sato

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POSTED ON Jun 22, 2020 1:01:40 GMT

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]perhaps it is kanto, or perhaps it is the new life in dominic, but marcel steps back in the face of his approach. a tandem that says more than he wanted to reveal. marcel shoves his hands into his pockets, a scowl heavy on his brow. "you're not my boss anymore, dominic," he bites back.
[break][break]
rattled by his own frustrations, he steps around the other rocket to continue ahead down the road. while dominic's made fervid by the site of their victory, he can only feel a sinking pressure. the sooner they got out of here, the better.
[break][break]

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[attr="class","tag"]dominic sinclair

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sinclair

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POSTED ON Jun 24, 2020 17:49:02 GMT

Lucas Lane and marcel maeda like this

dominic raises his eyebrows in feigned surprise. "oh?" the exclamation is laced with a grim amusement. it’s almost worse when he smiles.

as marcel passes him, dominic turns and follows him a step behind - a ghost in his wake.

"i’m not your boss, but you’re going to listen because you owe me so very much," he hisses at the back of marcel’s neck. dominic feels his features contort to a snarl and makes no attempt to hide it.

"old man kelley and i gave you an out, and you come back and spit in my face. is that it, marcel?"

he didn’t always, but dominic thinks he’s starting to understand. maeda, wolfe, raskolnikov - they all suffer from the same affliction; guilt, shame, a festering weakness.

marcel maeda

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kosuke sato

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POSTED ON Jun 25, 2020 0:29:19 GMT

dominic sinclair likes this

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]the first breath on his neck has marcel reaching for his phone. he presses a button along the edge and his rotom silently whirrs to life. on standby. a reflexive, cautionary movement because the both of them know marcel is no fighter.
[break][break]he turns against his will--a threat in sight is better than one at his back--and mimics that same false surprise dominic had thrown at him earlier. "this isn't about you," he says, "just like how that shit you pulled with blackwell wasn't about anyone but you."
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dominic wasn't selfless, but he had gotten bored. it's the only conclusion he can reach, with his pieces of the story. marcel's perception of dominic had never changed since their time in kanto, and nothing the man had done would ever suggest otherwise.
[break][break]
(who could be grateful for that?)
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sinclair

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POSTED ON Jun 26, 2020 20:08:12 GMT

dominic’s eyes narrow as he watches marcel reach to his pocket. call it self-preservation; his muscles tense and his first impulse would have been to seize the man’s wrist but some latent restraint allows him to stay his hand. the words that follow make dominic’s gaze flicker back to marcel’s face, and when he cocks his head to the side his expression turns inscrutable.

"do you really believe that or are you just pretending to be dense?" he says after a moment. for a fleeting second the hostile edge had bled from his tone to be replaced by something bordering on ruminative.

silas’s self-destructive deathwish would have seen them all die: it wasn’t ambition, it was a misguided and all-consuming mania against which dominic measures all his actions. the fact that only he, kelley, and raskolnikov were ever aware of the depths of silas’s depravity - if only due to their stations and mere proximity - leaves a bitter feeling on the back of dominic’s tongue.

"yeah, it’s about me, and you. i did my job perfectly, and now it’s time for you to do yours."

marcel maeda

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kosuke sato

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POSTED ON Jun 27, 2020 12:32:05 GMT

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]he falters, as he always does--marcel has never been sure in himself. dominic's first statemnt goes unanswered. while he resented the higher ranks of rocket, he had never let himself pry too deep--too much pain for someone who only wanted to get by. fear and a want for ignorance kept his head down. he'd been biding his time.
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and his chance had come, in the end. it pains him to think he had dominic to thank for it, but the fact hardly mattered now. he was back--for good, probably.
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"what do you think i'm trying to do?" he snaps back, defensive yet unsure. he didn't need dominic berating him, he had his own way of doing things.
[break][break]marcel pulls out his phone and begins typing in the first address they're supposed to be checking, not wanting to hear whatever response dominic had to offer.[break][break]

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[attr="class","tag"]dominic sinclair

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sinclair

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twenty-eight

january 4

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POSTED ON Jun 27, 2020 13:40:24 GMT

dominic watches marcel’s features darken and catches the sense of a lingering uncertainty. a half-smile unfurls slowly across dominic’s lips and is gone just as quick as it came. "i’m not sure yet," he says after a beat.

which is the essence of the problem, really; rocket administration is in shambles, the events in littleroot are a testament to that fact. in truth, the only people he has confidence in are marie, eva and, reluctantly, marcel.

"god, you’re making that face," dominic says with a sigh that straddles the line between amused and exasperated. he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand while marcel types into his phone.

"look marcel. of course i’m bothered when all we have is new blood and weak links. don’t take it so personally."

marcel maeda

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kosuke sato

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twenty-eight

february 20

nimbasa city, unova

bisexual

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608 height

i burn, i shiver / out of this sun and into this shadow

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POSTED ON Jun 27, 2020 16:15:56 GMT

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]"what face?" he counters with none of his usual patience. their route finally loads, a blue line darts along the map before stopping at their destination. he tries retyping the address, because it wasn't as close as he was expecting, to (unsurprisingly) no avail. whatever, he supposed he could do with time to cool off.
[break][break]
"doesn't matter," he says, holding up his phone to flash the travelling distance, "let's just get moving. the longer we're out here the more likely someone's gonna try and rob us." it's part excuse, part truth. the crime rate was horrendous in kanto--and their kingdom or not, he doubted anyone would stop to check who they were. still, marcel didn't doubt that dominic and him would be able to hold their own. especially when most people here were petty criminals.
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[attr="class","notes"]notes: ...

[attr="class","tag"]dominic sinclair

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played by

lyre

sinclair

he / him

twenty-eight

january 4

saffron, kanto

heterosexual

underboss

executive

321 height

become as fire, eat the woods. eat the dark and show where i stood

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518 posts

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TAG WITH @dominic